


look for the girl with the broken smile

by bellmare



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions
Genre: Community: pokanon, F/M, Mood Whiplash, Pokemon Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 12:03:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellmare/pseuds/bellmare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over the course of his travels, he has learnt to love her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	look for the girl with the broken smile

Every time he sees her, he cannot help but wonder how she feels, to be overtaken by him.

 

He tries to ask her about it, once, when he stops by Sandgem Town on Professor Rowan’s behest. He sees her standing in front of the lab – the very same place she had first introduced herself properly to him – and fiddling with her scarf in a vaguely distracted manner. There’s something odd about the slope of her shoulders and the set of her jaw, a glazed distance in her eyes which he hasn’t seen before.

 

He wonders what’s up.

 

“Dawn!” he calls out before he can stop himself. “How’re you?”

 

When she turns to watch as he trudges up to her through the patches of tall grass which dot Route 201, no emotion registers on her pretty face, and she only gazes steadily at him, fingers absently worrying at a tendril of wool which unravels from the end of her scarf.

 

“Hello, Lucas,” she greets, a preoccupied smile curving across her lips. “I’m  …  fine, fine. Everything’s fine,” she adds rather redundantly, tacking on a half-hearted laugh at the end of her statement. “What about you?”

 

The subdued solemnity of her voice is so uncustomary for her; he has grown used to listening to the musical chime of her voice, the trill of her laughter, to seeing the playful glimmer in her eyes. When he studies her, he sees nothing amiss, but concern prompts him to ask nonetheless.

 

“You aren’t sick, are you?” he murmurs, peering closely at her. She chuckles, an odd, awkwardly stilted sound, and shakes her head fiercely.

 

“No, no, I told you, I’m—”

 

“Fine, I know. But you sound  …  funny,” he finishes for her, nibbling on the inside of his cheek. “Are you sure? No fever or flu or headaches or—?”

 

“Professor Rowan’s looking for you,” she cuts in pointedly before he can say more, jabbing a stiff finger towards the research lab’s door as she speaks. “You’d better not keep him waiting.”

 

In the face of a dismissal such as this, he has no choice but to turn away from her; when he pushes reluctantly against the door, it feels like he’s trying to heft aside a world’s worth of sorrow, pressing heavy and leaden against his hands.

 

As he carefully shuts the door behind him, the sight of dull, unseeing eyes and a stuck-on smile stays with him—for an instant, it’s almost as if she’s one of those Pokédolls staring at him from the Veilstone Department Store counters, begging him to lift them out of their glass cages.

 

.

 

The first time he lays eyes her, he is struck by her poise, her politeness and air of cultured grace, which makes him feel all the more ashamed of Barry’s loud nattering in his ear as his friend goes on and on about a fantastic red gyarados. The first thing Lucas notices is her pale grey eyes, bright as a bird’s, the enthusiasm in her voice palpable as she queries the old man about his travels and how he finds Sinnoh.

 

When she and the Professor Rowan fellow take their leave from the lakefront, she seems to sense his scrutiny and glances up to bestow upon him a small, quick grin, a hasty bob of her head as she apologises for being in his way – when it’s quite the opposite, and he’s standing dumbly in front of the path out. “S-sorry,” he mumbles out, and he is rewarded by a faint blush as she ducks to the side, avoiding his gaze. He catches a fleeting sight of the apple of her cheek curved with her smile, and then she’s gone, like the very same mirage Pokémon Barry is still babbling about.

 

“Who’re _they_?” Barry says at last, goggling after the two. “And what was that all about?”

 

Even though he can’t explain it, he has the oddest feeling that he’ll be seeing them again pretty soon. “I dunno,” Lucas replies bemusedly. “I really have no idea.”

 

.

 

Over the course of his travels, he has learnt to love her.

 

He cannot help but admire the way she speaks with such confidence, cannot help but gravitate automatically towards the soft cadence of her animated, earnest voice as she shows him around her hometown with such pride, indicating to him the Pokémon Centre, the Pokémart, the route he has to take to truly begin his journey. He nods and follows her gaze around the little town, and wishes he knows as much as her about journeying.

 

Although he doesn’t tell his mother much about the confusing emotions he feels towards the pretty dark-haired girl, he notices the knowing smile on her face as she listens to him rambling about helping Professor Rowan with his research. She only stifles a giggle when he offhandedly mentions the Professor’s assistant, and tells him she’s glad he’s made a new friend so quickly.

 

When he meets Dawn at the start of the next route, he is surprised at her skill – never mind the fact that bidoof are a penny apiece and are the easiest Pokémon to catch – and wishes he can listen to the sound of her voice for just a little bit longer. Everything is so clear now, when she explains to him the principles behind capturing a Pokémon—it makes sense to weaken them first, he realises with a giddy rush of embarrassment, recalling all the instances during his childhood when he charged around trying to catch disgruntled starly with nothing but a Pokéball and crossed fingers.

 

“Bye-bye for now,” she says, once her demonstration is complete. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you soon!”

 

She turns to leave before he can respond, and as she goes, he glimpses her shy smile and a brief wave of her dainty little hand, her bracelets clinking gently with the motion.

 

As he watches her retreating figure slowly becoming obscured by the swatches of swaying grass, Lucas cannot help but hope that is the case.

 

.

 

The next time they meet is sooner than any of them would have imagined.

 

After he makes his way back towards Jubilife City, exhilarated from his victory against the young Oreburgh gym leader – and Lucas wishes he could be a gym leader too, someday – he is confused when he sees the teal-haired spacesuit-clad people haranguing Professor Rowan about handing over his Pokémon.

 

He does not hesitate to jump to the Professor’s assistance—when Dawn turns to him with her pale face flushed and her eyes overbright, asking him to team up with her, he cannot agree quickly enough, standing alongside her as they send their Pokémon out to battle.

 

Throughout the match, as brief and intense as it is, Lucas cannot help but glance over to her to see how she’s coping, and is taken in by the fierce determination in her eyes as she urges her piplup on, and refocuses all his attention onto the battle. Somehow, he is struck by the sudden, inexplicable urge to prove himself, and he fights against these nameless strangers even more fiercely than he fought against Roark.

 

Regardless, it seems as though she has the match in the bag; he only supplements her with moves like Leech Seed, hindering their opponents’ movements as she swoops in and makes swift work of their zubat and wurmple.

 

The Team Galactic lackeys fall with little resistance, and clear off with undue haste. “You did great!” Dawn enthuses, hopping up and down on the spot with girlish glee. “With you and me on the same side, there’s no way our dream team will ever fail! No way at all!”

 

Even the Professor smiles a little at her words, and though Lucas glows on the inside at the praise and thanks he receives from the esteemed researcher, Dawn’s words are what linger in his mind long after he has parted ways with them.

 

“She’s so brave,” he says to his turtwig as they trot towards the Pokémon Centre. “She’s quite something, isn’t she? I bet she could have taken on those weird Galactic fellows even without our help!”

 

The tiny leaf Pokémon gazes up at him with bright, curious eyes, and he swears the little shoot on its head wiggles in something approximating agreement.

 

.

 

It is a while before he hears from her again, and by then, he has gone through Floaroma Town and Eterna City – and fought against two Team Galactic commanders, Mars and Jupiter – and he cannot help but think about her and her firm, seemingly unshakable confidence when she faces the strangely-dressed people in battle.

 

He pauses at Route 207 to catch his breath, not expecting to meet anyone other than the few Hikers, Picnickers and Campers who are passing by; it comes as a huge shock to see Dawn waiting for him there as though she’s been there for ages, with a grin as large as Mount Coronet looming behind her. “Hello, Lucas!” she says cheerfully as she draws level to him. “That’s a nice bicycle you have! I take it things have been going well on your side?”

 

“Of course!” he hastens to assure her, grinning broadly—though at the same time, he is somewhat uncertain as to how to properly greet her. “I saw your father at the other side of the Cycling Path, and he checked up on my Pokédex for me.” He pauses for an instant. “And what about you? Pokédex coming along nicely?”

 

“Oh, yes,” she begins hurriedly, but even as she says it, her face falls. “Well  …  I wish. B-but enough about me! Now, pick a hand  …  ”

 

Even though he chooses her right hand, she gives him both things anyways. When she bids him farewell, he sees a shadow which stirs tiredly in her eyes, hears what could either be a sad, wistful sigh or just a sudden gust of wind, and then she’s gone again, hurrying away before he can ask her more about how her journey’s going.

 

“She’s almost like Barry,” he tells his grotle as he pats its sun-warmed shell, and it only clicks its horny beak-like jaw in a vaguely noncommittal manner. “Always seems to be rushing off when I want to ask her something that’s not  …  well, you know, _Pokémon_ -related.”

 

.

 

He loses track of her some time after that, and tries to imagine what she is up to; he feels vaguely bemused as to why he cares so deeply about her wellbeing during the course of her travels, but puts it down to concern over a friend and thinks nothing more of it. “I’m sure she’s fine, adventuring around in the big, wide world,” he says to his sleepy grotle, who grunts in response; they are passing through Solaceon Town, and he is playing around with the notion of going into the Ruins. “I wonder how her Pokédex is progressing along,” he adds with a thoughtful frown, as he leans close to read the hieroglyphs which mark one end of the wall. The Pokémon blinks ponderously, but nudges him gently, and Lucas nods. “Yeah, I’m being silly, aren’t I?”

 

And so, he puts Dawn out of his mind for a time, not allowing himself think of how she’s getting along until he runs into her in Veilstone City.

 

“Long time no see,” she says, beaming at him; he grins boyishly at her, at quite a loss as to what to say. “I take it you’re planning on challenging the gym, huh?” He nods, feeling utterly _foolish_ for being so tongue-tied in front of her. “You’re _amazing_ ,” Dawn breathes, eyes bright with admiration. “To think that you’re going to get your third badge already!”

 

If she notices the flaming scarlet shade his cheeks turn, she doesn’t mention it, and tactfully refrains from commenting upon his breathless sputter. “I-it’s nothing,” Lucas stammers, although his heart leaps in his chest at her words.

 

Suddenly, she frowns, her lips pursing into a small ‘o’ of sudden remembrance. “Ah! I was meaning to ask you something. Is today maybe  …  your birthday?”

 

He is surprised by the fact that she knows. “Um  …  I  …  uh  …  ”

 

Dawn’s face is serious, her brow furrowed in an expression which makes him want to laugh, if only he weren’t so taken aback. “A simple yes or no would suffice for me.”

 

“Um  …  yes  …  ? H-how did you know?”

 

As soon as he says those words, she grins toothily at him, and taps the side of her head knowingly. “A friend of yours told me,” she giggles, and it doesn’t take the genius of Professor Oak to figure out who it is. “Congratulations, though! And I wish you many, many more happy returns!”

 

She chuckles at his expression, but then her face falls slightly. “Oh! But  …  I  …  I don’t really have anything to give to you.”

 

“It’s alright!” he hastens to assure her. “Really! Please, don’t think too much about it!” Inwardly, he feels _terrible_ for not knowing hers.

 

“Mmm, well, I guess I’ll be heading off now,” she says suddenly, and his hopes – hopes for _what?_ – come crashing down. “I have to keep working on the Pokédex and all, so I can’t really stay around. I’d love to watch your matches sometime, though. Maybe I could pick up some nifty new strategies!”

 

He is flattered to find that she thinks so highly of him—after all, she had a head-start on her journey, and yet she holds him in such high regard! Lucas only smiles sheepishly. “So  …  it seems like I’ll catch up with you sooner or later, huh?”

 

“Definitely,” she assures him earnestly, and then she’s off again, fingers laced together behind her back as she ambles off and is lost in the crowd.

 

.

 

Oddly enough, the next time he sees her is mere moments after he beats Maylene – it’s a close one, and they’re fairly evenly-matched, though he is lucky in the end when he is able to defeat her lucario with a well-timed Earthquake, a move he is wary of using due to his starter’s recent evolution. After a quick chat with the peaceable and grounded young gym leader, he thanks her for a good battle and turns to leave, only to nearly walk into Dawn when he steps out of the sliding doors.

 

“Oh—hello!” he says, taken aback by the despondence in her downcast eyes. “What’s  …  did something happen?”

 

Her lip trembles slightly when she lifts her head to gaze at him, and his breath hitches. “Something wrong?” he presses again, silently urging her to bring that pretty smile back to her face. Her distracted air from earlier, and now her sadness, casts a shadow upon his birthday, and he hopes she is alright—that’s the only gift he wants.

 

“Team Galactic  …  they  …  they stole my Pokédex!” The pitch of her voice fluctuates erratically; the poor girl is pale from worry, and she looks close to tears. “I-if the Professor finds out, then he’ll  …  he’ll not be happy.” The final word escapes in a panicky sob, and Lucas is distraught by how _miserable_ she sounds. “They w-won’t give it back and now I—”

 

“I’ll help you get it back,” he blurts out, and she sniffs, jaw set as she tries to fight back the tears. He sounds surer and firmer than he actually is, but when he says it, Dawn’s face brightens somewhat.

 

She squints her eyes slightly and takes a deep, calming breath to steady herself. “Are you sure? I mean, you have better things to be doing, and I feel so _stupid_ for losing it and being such a pansy about it and—”

 

“You’re _not_ a pansy and you shouldn’t feel that way,” Lucas tells her firmly, placing his arm around her slender shoulders. “C’mon, we’ll team up again, how about that?”

 

She doesn’t draw away, doesn’t even ask him what he thinks he’s doing, and only leans against his side, sighing. “Thank you,” she says in a small voice, but some of the steely determination from before has returned from it. “But first, go heal up your Pokémon, and then come meet me in front of the Galactic warehouses. _No_ ,” she adds firmly, when he opens his mouth to protest. “I don’t want you to be fighting with your Pokémon all tired out.”

 

It is pointless to convince her otherwise, and the stubborn jut of her set jaw does not brook much argument. “I’ll see you there,” he says, and she nods, a short, brief jerk of her head. She gently disengages herself from his comforting embrace – not without some embarrassment and surprise – and marches off towards her destination, scarf-tails flapping with each step.

 

Lucas almost _runs_ to the Pokémon Centre and paces restlessly at the counter whilst the other people watch him with bewilderment. He cannot thank Nurse Joy quickly enough and then he’s out of the door, tearing towards the warehouse as fast as his feet will carry him.

 

The match is quick. Almost pointless. The Galactic grunts do not put up much of a fight for all their obnoxiousness and bluster, and clear off quickly enough—no, what catches his attention more is Dawn’s evident relief at getting her Pokédex back.

 

“We did it again!” she cries, relief washing over her voice in waves. “Thank you so much!”

 

He is unprepared for the hug she envelops in; one minute she’s standing there and gabbling a constant stream of thanks at him, and the next she’s flung her arms around his neck, chin resting on his shoulder.

 

The thing that strikes him the most is how they just seem to _fit_ together, how _natural_ it feels to hug her back and rub her back in wide, soothing circles. “You were great in that battle—I don’t know why you thought you couldn’t take them,” he mumbles, but she doesn’t seem to hear him. “I barely even did anything!”

 

“That’s not true,” Dawn says with a frown as she pulls away from him. When he shakes his head and tries to deny playing much of a role in the match, she leans forwards and silences him, pressing her lips to his cheek in a quick kiss.

 

The words die away in his mouth, and he can only gape at her. She smiles a little. “I hope this will suffice as a little birthday present from me to you,” she murmurs as she turns and flees, red-faced before he can reply.

 

“It’s the best birthday gift anyone could ever give me,” Lucas says quietly, to her retreating figure. His skin tingles from where she kissed it, as though assuring him of the fact that he’s not dreaming.

 

.

 

Through his travels, he never forgets that quick peck on the cheek she gives him, and cannot stop wondering what it could possibly mean.

 

“No, no, it didn’t mean anything,” Lucas says stubbornly to himself, whilst his alakazam and torterra exchange exasperated looks. “It was just a  …  a kiss between, um, friends, and that was it.”

 

But that’s _exactly_ what’s wrong with his argument. Friends _don’t_ kiss one another.

 

Right after his battle in Canalave City against Byron, he sees her again, though he doesn’t get to talk to her – she is back to playing her part of Professor Rowan’s assistant—quick, efficient, brisk and self-assured, and he has no idea on how to bring the subject up. She doesn’t say much, only catching his eye once or twice, but that’s it – and she’s off again, travelling back to Lake Verity where his whole journey started.

 

He continues onwards to Lake Valour in the same state of abject confusion and barely even registers the presence of the crabby Team Galactic underlings bickering amongst themselves in the drained lake area. Fighting against Commander Saturn, Lucas remains distracted and ill-at-ease, but once he finds he has to head towards Lake Verity to find Commander Mars – _and Dawn,_ his subconsciousness whispers to him – he does so without much further ado.

 

It is only once he gets to the fiery Galactic Commander that he is snapped forcibly out of his fugue—she makes some sly comment about him heading to his lover’s rescue, and then Lucas can only gape at her, fingers fumbling with his pokéballs – thankfully, Professor Rowan is too far out of earshot to hear the exchange, though Dawn turns scarlet and refuses to meet his eye.

 

Mortified, Lucas can barely concentrate on the battle and is down to his last Pokémon when Dawn intervenes and her empoleon blocks a Shadow Claw from Mars’s purugly, allowing his alakazam to counter with a Psychic which effectively ends the match. The smug, knowing look on the woman’s face as she recalls her Pokémon speaks volumes, and for several moments, a stiff, awkward silence stretches between Dawn and himself, until the Professor makes his way to them.

 

Fortunately – or unfortunately – they go their separate ways soon after, with Lucas heading North and Dawn and the Professor returning to Sandgem.

 

“It’s sort of the way it’s always been, huh,” he says dispassionately to his staraptor, who waits for him to tell it where to fly to. “She always runs away or has to do more Pokémon research when I try to talk to her about  …  you know, _other_ stuff.”

 

.

 

The next time they meet, it is in the shadow of a crisis.

 

In the space of a few days, he has trudged through Sinnoh, braved the cold, unwelcoming terrain of the North, defeated Candice, and seen Barry’s childish naïveté and exuberance wither in the face of Commander Jupiter’s taunts. He’s charged through Team Galactic’s headquarters and battled several delusional, misled lackeys, all following the orders they don’t understand, from a leader they barely even see or know. He’s seen for himself the extent to which Cyrus – cold, impassive, calculating, cruel – will go to achieve his goals. He has seen the suffering borne by the three Pokémon of the lake, all for Cyrus’s cause, and is sickened by what he discovers. But he forces himself to go on, because there isn’t any other direction he can go.

 

He powers through Mount Coronet, defeating hopelessly misinformed Galactic grunts left, right and centre, finding himself at even more of a loss as he navigates through the dead zones of cavernous mountain paths and rocky cliffs. He does it because he has to, because it’s up to him to save the world, but yet his mind is not fully on the job—his thoughts constantly wander, back to Dawn’s downturned mouth and rueful gaze, back to her frosty silence. He’s _hurt_ by the fact that she’s stopped talking to him altogether, and wonders what he could possibly have done wrong.

 

Of course, he has to push such thoughts from his mind when he finally makes it to the Spear Pillar and faces Mars, Jupiter and Cyrus for what he fervently hopes is the last time.

 

It’s this sense of savage detachment which drives him onwards; he barely even notes the surprise on Mars and Jupiter’s faces when his torterra unleashes an Earthquake which, in a single hit, renders both their strongest fighters out of commission. He doesn’t pay much attention Cyrus’s manic rants, takes scant notice when the three mirages of the lakes appear and smash his plans to smithereens.

 

What he _does_ notice, though, is Dawn’s voice, crystal-clear in the echoing emptiness of the Spear Pillar.

 

“Lucas!”

 

Slowly, disbelievingly, he turns and sees her standing there, out of breath and dark hair windswept, but her eyes are bright and so _alive_ , cutting through his apathy like a hot knife through butter. “Lucas, what are you doing? There’s no time for spacing out right now – not when Dialga is on the loose!”

 

The sound of her voice reminds him of who he is and what he’s doing—and he smiles for the first time in weeks. “You’re right,” he says, and once more he feels thrilled, exhilarated, by the prospect of facing down the Lord of Time. “There’s nothing to lose, huh? It’s now or never.”

 

She nods, then moves forwards with quick, brisk steps, away from the Professor’s side. “I believe in you,” she whispers to him, and her grip on his fingers is strong, the warmth of her hands driving away the dead chill of their surroundings. “If there’s someone out there who can tame Dialga, it’s you, Lucas.”

 

He swallows, but returns her gaze fearlessly. Then he turns, reluctantly pulls away, and for a moment, he is struck by an appalling sense of loss – she’s no longer next to him, reassuring him with her presence, and he’s gazing into the red-red eyes of the temporal master, ready for whatever it can throw at him.

 

When he walks towards it, he doesn’t look back.

 

.

 

It’s been a long and hard fight, but he’s here at last – Barry has finally stopped pouting and hemming and hawing like his mother, and wishes him ‘bucketloads and bucketloads of luck, but it’s not as if he needs it if he managed to defeat the great Barry’.

 

“Thanks,” Lucas says, humbled by his best buddy’s words. “I guess this is it, huh? After busting Team Galactic, saving the world and all that, beating all the gym leaders and getting through Victory Road  …  and I’m finally here.”

 

It’s not quite the same, though, he reflects sadly, because Dawn’s not here to share this moment with him. “After all, she sort of was the one who inspired me to get through this whole journey, and never to give up,” he says absently.

 

“What was that?” Barry asks curiously, and Lucas is horrified by the fact that he actually _said_ it out loud. “Who’s _she_?”

 

“Nothing, nothing! Just talking to myself, ahahaha  …  well, it  …  I guess I’ll be going in now, then. There’s no turning back after this.”

 

“Nope. Good luck! And you better not lose to them, you hear me?! Otherwise I’ll fine you fifty bazillion bucks and—”

 

He goes straight towards the door and doesn’t allow himself to falter at the threshold.

 

.

 

It’s over. He’s done it.

 

He’s beaten the Elite Four, has defeated Cynthia herself – and Lucas is now officially the new Champion.

 

It’s almost unreal, but every time he wonders whether he dreamed it all up, he only has to look at his faithful team – standing tall and proud, wearing the Champion’s ribbons as proof of their achievements – to be assured of the fact.

 

“I did it,” he says dazedly one morning, staring up at his bedroom ceiling. “I actually did it.”

 

“I’m proud of you, honey,” his mother says, ruffling his hair as he sits at the slightly scuffed table – for the first time in how long now? It seems like _forever_ since he last sat here – and plays around with his breakfast.

 

He nods, but his mind is elsewhere – he is preoccupied and lost in idle daydreams. When he glances at the television – tuned to a contest channel, where, on the flickering screen dancing figures of lolloping buneary and sleek-furred linoone caper – he sees not the beautifully-groomed Pokémon, but instead a girl with bright grey eyes.

 

“Lucas, dear, did you hear what I just said?”

 

His mother’s voice wrenches him from his reverie, and he shakes his head weakly. “Sorry,” he says quietly, pushing away the buzz of static which drones at the base of his skull.

 

Her eyes are sympathetic. “Professor Rowan called earlier – he told me to ask if you could stop by Sandgem – there’s somebody he’d like you to meet.”

 

And that is how Lucas finds himself standing in front of the Pokémon Research Lab, fingers curled loosely in a fist as he contemplates whether to knock or just enter.

 

He is saved from making a decision by the door suddenly _exploding_ open in his face, nearly knocking him off his feet; for several moments, he is too stunned to react and can only stare blankly at the figure who stands in front of him, until his vision clears and he realises who it is. “D-dawn!”

 

She looks up, and he is horrified to see her in tears. But yet, even though her eyes are red and puffy and she is sniffing and trying to stop her nose from running, she’s still every bit as beautiful as she was when he first met her.

 

It _breaks_ his heart to see her in this state.

 

“Wh-what’s wrong?” he stammers, moving forwards to touch her shoulder; she flinches away from him as though burned and takes a step back. The door swings slightly and comes to a halt behind her. Voices filer out through the thin crack between the door and its frame—he catches Professor Rowan’s voice, and then a lower, disappointed sigh. “Dawn? Please, t-talk to me.”

 

“My daughter? Well  …  she has much room for improvement. It’ll be a long time before she can actually measure up to Lucas’s achievements.”

 

_Please._

“Don’t say things like that. She’s a lively, intelligent girl, and I’m sure—”

 

A sudden breeze and then the door swings shut, the voices abruptly cut off mid-sentence.

 

The silence stretches between him and Dawn, threatening to shatter if he so much as breathes. “Dawn—”

 

_Please._

 

“Go away,” she chokes out, and then she’s gone, head bowed as she charges away from him, fighting against the tears which are brimming in her eyes. Her voice catches painfully in her throat, and it kills him to see the pain on her face, to hear the note of self-pity and hatred stir in her words, bitter as bile. “Go _away_.”

 

She brushes against his shoulder as she goes, and he is left standing foolishly at the door with his hand outstretched, aching to take hold of time and reshape it, to rewind it to the point before everything started falling apart.

 

 _Please,_ he whispers to the wind. _Why did you run?_

 

.

 

He doesn’t get to speak to her for the longest time, and every time he recalls their last moment together – her fleeing away from him, furiously wiping away tears with the heels of her hands as she runs – he feels a hollowness which settles in his stomach—sickly, heavy, leaden.

 

To forget, to put his mind off of things, he travels through Sinnoh. He sees a lot of Barry nowadays, who babbles on and on about going to meet his daddy in battle – but he hasn’t seen Dawn since that fateful day, almost a year ago.

 

 _Where did you go?_ he asks all the time, but of course, he never gets any answer. He tries to send her letters and waits for weeks on end for his faithful staraptor to return – but when it comes back to him, dark feathers mussed and clicking it’s great, hooked beak with annoyance, it still has his correspondences tied to its leg, untouched and falling apart.

 

It’s his birthday today, and he’s already gotten a letter from his mother and Barry, who both wish him luck in his travels; his friend’s mail is markedly more  …  colourful, and once he finishes congratulating Lucas on getting through another year, he adds something about fining him if _he_ forgets Barry’s birthday. It’s all very typical of both of them, he thinks fondly as he tucks the letters away and thanks his mother’s chatot and Barry’s staraptor for delivering them to him, and there’s no other way he’d have them.

 

But what hurts most of all is Dawn’s conspicuous absence in his life. There’s a gap where she should be, and he’s amazed by the fact that he never noticed it prior to meeting her.

 

Thus so, he nearly has heart failure when he walks in through his villa door – it’s a terribly plush place he feels uncomfortable with returning to, because it’s just not _him_ – to find Dawn perched on the edge of his couch and staring into space.

 

“I  …  you  …  what  …  ” He can only stutter incoherently at the sight of her sitting there as though she’s been there all along. “Where  …  where have you been all this time?”

 

“Around,” she says evasively, not meeting his eyes as she speaks. “I  …  I have to go again. But, well  …  I just wanted to be here to  …  to wish you a happy birthday.”

 

When she smiles at him, he only feels sorrow. This isn’t Dawn, and it’s not right. Dawn should be joyful, happy, her voice bubbling with giddy laughter, but this one just seems so out of place, and he doesn’t know what to do.

 

“It’s a nice place you have here,” she says neutrally, gesturing vaguely around her surroundings. “I take it you’re collecting lots of furniture now, aren’t you?” She pauses, and some of the old cheer returns to her eyes. “Ah  …  to be with that special someone in a wonderful villa like this  …  I think it’s a nice dream to have.”

 

Already rendered speechless by her appearance where he least expects it, Lucas’s knees nearly give out when he hears her last sentence. “What-what was that?”

 

She stands and smiles ruefully at him, a painful, frozen expression which doesn’t fit in with the forlorn sadness which is palpable just beneath the surface. “Nothing,” Dawn says quietly. “Don’t think too much about it.”

 

She hops off the sofa and gives him a kiss on the cheek, just like before – but when her lips brush against, he only feels cold inside.

 

“Wait—” he begins, but the door swings shut behind her.

 

.

 

When he returns home to visit his mother, he instinctively stops by Sandgem Town – and sees Dawn standing in front of the Pokémon Research Lab, staring at her shoes.

 

His greeting dies in his throat. Instead, he makes his way towards her, clomping along as noisily as he can – just so that if she wants to, she can run away and leave him staring after her, just like she’s always done. She’s entitled to that much, after all.

 

She stays in place.

 

He draws level with her and they both stare at the ground, until he breaks the silence. “How’re you?”

 

His voice is quiet, subdued, _afraid –_ what if she runs? – and he holds his breath, waiting for her to answer.

 

“Fine.” She laughs a little, but it peters out halfway through a lacklustre ‘ha’. “What about you?”

 

He bites his lip. “You’re not sick, are you—”

 

“No. I’m fine. Say, have you been using the Pokérader lately?”

 

He pauses, caught off-guard. “I’m sorry?”

 

“The Pokéradar. That device thing you were given – have you tried it out yet? Found anything?”

 

“Well, yes, I—”

 

“Ah, good, good. There’s no need for me to explain anything, then.”

 

Another uncomfortable silence descends, and they both resume staring at their surroundings, looking everywhere but at one another. Then—

 

“Professor Rowan’s looking for you. You’d better not dawdle.”

 

“Yeah. I guess  …  you’re right.” Reluctantly, he turns away from her, and pushes through the door. As he slowly shuts the door behind him, he is aware of her gaze – steady, despairing, imploring, _reproachful_ – which burns into the back of his head.

 

 _Let me in_ , he wants to beg her. _Please don’t shut me out like this._

 

.

 

The inside of the lab is as he remembers it – cool, brightly-lit, humming with activity. Professor Rowan sits at a desk, busily tapping at his keyboard, and chatting into a wireless device stuck to his ear.

 

“Ah! Lucas, just the man I was looking for!”

 

Lucas turns to meet the familiar visage of Dawn’s father and nods respectfully. “Hello, sir.”

 

“You seem to be going from strength to strength!” he says without preamble, clapping him enthusiastically on the shoulder. “Caught every single Pokémon in the Sinnoh region, and already completed half of the National Pokédex! I must say, I’m quite honoured to know you.”

 

Lucas fidgets uncertainly. “Ye-yes,” he mutters, but stops in his tracks. “Um  …  if you don’t mind me asking, wh-what about Dawn? I mean, she’s done as much as me, if not more—”

 

“Ah.” Her father raises weary hands to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Dawn’s  …  well, she lacks discipline. She’s gotten stubborn and headstrong, and she’s not taking much joy in her duties any more. She just doesn’t have your _drive,_ your skill or strategies, and it reflects in her work.”

 

He is appalled to hear such things being said of the girl who inspired him to push himself to his limits. “That’s not true!” Lucas objects vehemently, his rising voice taking half of the lab by surprise. “She completed the Pokédex way before me, and she—”

 

“I’m not saying she has no talent,” the older man says wearily. “But at the same time, she just doesn’t have the strength of character. If I may be frank, it’s  …  somewhat disappointing. I had great aspirations for her, and she’s just sort of given up on them altogether.”

 

Lucas cannot take it anymore. He whirls on his heel and departs the laboratory at haste, leaving the researchers to gape at one another in the ensuing stunned silence.

 

.

 

When he tears out of the building, she’s not there anymore.

 

“Dawn!” he hollers in a surge of blind panic, and hears only his own voice echoing back at him. An elderly lady watering the riot of flowers in her window-box shoots him a dirty look, but he’s too distracted to apologise.

 

At a loss as to what to do, he heads towards the only place he hasn’t really thought of looking at.

 

When he enters the house, it is quiet, serene. A little girl sits in front of the television, chattering animatedly with a wizened old gentleman who must be her grandfather.

 

Lucas stands uncertainly at the doorway, and clears his throat. “Um  …  excuse me?”

 

The girl jumps up in her seat to get a better look at him, but relaxes when she recognises his face. “Hi, hi, Lucas!”

 

“Good afternoon. Have  …  have you two seen Dawn?”

 

The old man peers inquiringly at his granddaughter, who repeats Lucas’s question to him, albeit in a much louder voice. He responds at an equally high volume and returns his attention to the television. The girl shakes her head. “We haven’t seen her since this morning.”

 

“I see. Well, uh, I’m sorry for barging in—”

 

“Say, do you know about Pokémon swarms?”

 

He nods warily, not quite seeing where this is going.

 

“Well, I just saw on the telly that there’s a whole lot of spoink at Route 214 today! You better go catch them! I want you to do better than my big sis and be the bestest Pokémon master there ever was!”

 

Thoroughly disconcerted by her words, Lucas nods again. “Er, thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

Only once he’s outside does he allow his shoulders to sag and his step to falter.

 

 _What happened?_ he whispers to the cheery little garden, watching with unseeing eyes as a starly tries to tug squirming wurmple out of the ground.

 

.

 

Another year passes. He watches as the seasons change, as leaves turn colour and fall from spindly branches. Snow piles on top of houses and he can barely go anywhere without having his winter boots saturated with slush every time he ventures outdoors.

 

He is almost sixteen now, and he’s already caught most of the Pokémon listed in the National Pokédex.

 

There’s no denying the fact that he’s accomplished loads, but at the same time, something’s missing from his life, and he knows exactly what it is.

 

When he closes his eyes, Lucas sees long, dark hair framing a pretty, earnest face, feels slender fingers clasping his and smooth lips against his cheek. He sees an exquisite crescent-moon smile, glimpses a spark of impish mischief in jewel-bright eyes, hears a riotous giggle like the chiming of silver bells ringing in the air. In reality, though, he sees Dawn standing in front of the Professor’s lab day in, day out, never answering any of his questions and instead rattling off countless factoids about the wonders of the Pokéradar.

 

In reality, he sees her every so often in his villa, gazing out of the window and commenting absently on his collection of furniture – which gathers dust day by day, because he can’t bring himself to do any cleaning—not when he’s too busy trying to figure out a way of putting more important things back together.

 

“Please, enough about my furniture,” he says with mulish exasperation one day—but then her expression closes and her monologue ceases. She walks out of the door soon after.

 

At sixteen – she has to be the same age as him, he reasons – she’s grown even more lovely now, but at the same time, more melancholic, more disconsolate. The more he tries to reach out, the further back she skitters, and it’s like some twisted dance routine they go through – asking and evasive parrying, and then the cycle repeats itself, over and over.

 

He drops by her house almost every day, in the hopes that he can catch her unawares and force a confession out of her, but day in day out, he sees only her sister and grandfather, and receives the same updates on swarming Pokémon and the entreaty to ‘do better than Dawn’.

 

He stops visiting a month before his birthday.

 

.

 

One day, when he’s loitering around Sandgem Beach and contemplating sailing to the special park at the end of it, he finds her sitting on the sand and gazing into the sunset.

 

When he removes his shoes and pads bare-footed up to her, she doesn’t try to escape. She stays in place even as he sits down awkwardly beside her and for several minutes they only stare at the sun as it sinks low into the horizon.

 

“So this is where you’ve been,” Lucas says softly.

 

Dawn’s eyes flick to his face and away again. She shrugs wearily and when she speaks, her voice is tired, grey, guarded. “More or less.”

 

At sixteen, she’s so much more beautiful now than she was when he first met her – though he can’t bring himself to fully appreciate her figure, not when she’s in such a state. Time has been kind to her, giving her slender, willowy limbs and delicate curves, which she hides by drawing her knees up to her chest, fingers knotted at her shins.

 

At last, he tries to speak; no words come out, and he turns away to moisten his lips, wondering how to begin.

 

“I missed you,” he says simply, shifting uncomfortably on the burning sand, ignoring the bite of coarse grains as they slide between his splayed fingers.

 

Dawn does not reply.

 

They remain like that for what seems like forever – until the sun has all but vanished, and the first eveningstars begin to appear in the sky.

 

Then, all of a sudden—

 

She breaks.

 

It’s an oddly exquisite thing, watching her unravel at the seams. One minute, she’s holding herself stubbornly in check, then the next she’s dissolving, melting, and he notices for the first time the tears which have been trickling down her face, leaving salt-streaked trails behind them.

 

His stomach twists at the sight. “Please,” he whispers, reaching tentatively forwards. “Don’t. You may be hurting, but you’re killing me.”

 

She turns her face away to hide the tears, but she can’t hide the telltale tremors which wrack her shoulders. “Dawn,” he begins nervously, “p-pick—” His voice cracks. He pauses, clears his throat and repeats himself, willing himself to stay strong for her sake. “Pick a hand. Any hand.”

 

When she turns to him, hiccoughing slightly, he’s ready for her – he holds them out before him, fingers curled beneath his palms. She hesitates, then touches his right fist. Without warning, Lucas opens his empty hands and seizes hers before she can pull away, gently drawing her into an embrace.

 

When he wraps his arms around her, everything feels right again. It doesn’t matter that night falls quickly around them, it doesn’t matter that they’re sitting at the very edge of the beach and the tide is inching up the shore. It doesn’t matter that she’s still sobbing into his shoulder, because she’s finally speaking to him again, the words spilling forwards in a rush so very different from the wooden dialogue of before.

 

Yesterday, it felt as though he would never again see the Dawn he had grown to know and love.

 

Today is his sixteenth birthday, and this is the best gift he could possibly have gotten.

 

Tomorrow, they’ll go brave the rest of the world together, one trainer and Pokémon at a time.

**Author's Note:**

> Circa 2010 for [this](http://pokanon.livejournal.com/517.html?thread=3000837) prompt on [pokanon](http://pokanon.livejournal.com): 
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> **inspired by a thread on /vp/**  
>   
> 
> _Research-assisting, Galactic-fighting, adventure-taking Dawn just hasn't been the same since Lucas defeated the Elite 4. All she does is just stand in front of the Professor's laboratory all day and talk about the Pokeradar. Occasionally, she visits Lucas' mansion, but only ever repeatedly asks him if he's collecting furniture. He worries whether she's had a major fight with her family, as her sister wants Lucas to do 'better than Dawn', and even her dad insulted her after Lucas completes the Sinnoh Pokedex. Alarmed and concerned, he tries snapping her out of it._
> 
>  
> 
> _(Bonus points for including birthday dialogue![Link here](http://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Dawn_%28game%29#Trivia).)_


End file.
